Tapestry of Challenges
by Yilaou Aari
Summary: A new time is upon the kingdom of Tortall. The age of darkness has begun to fade, but conspiracies are being born. Can Kalasin trust anyone but herself, or is everyone deceiving her? [sequel to Knotted Destiny]
1. Prologue

**Title:** Tapestry of Challenges  
**Author:** Kitty

"..." Talk  
'...' Thought  
_italic_ Dream

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters or creatures from Tamora Pierce's books, however, I do own those I have made up for this story. I also own the plot. If you want to use names of my characters or any ideas based from my story, get permission first.

**Summary:** A new time is upon the kingdom of Tortall; a young woman who has gone against the rules of being a noble woman is in power with no suitor by her side. The age of darkness has begun to fade, but conspiracies are being born. Can Kalasin trust anyone but herself, or is everyone deceiving her?

* * *

Cyril of Tierney gazed at those before him, his dark eyes flashing dangeriously. Rising from his seat, the man towered over his companions as silence spread around the room. Grinning wolfishly, Cyril spoke, his voice commanding everyone's attention.

"It is time we take control. The Conté line has been weakened for centuries, and now a _female_ rules over us all. Because of her, our kingdom is in ruin! Kalasin is not fit to be in power." He paused when whisperes errupted amongst the men.

"My fellows," he said calmly, demanding silence once more, "soon we will have enough power to take over. Soon we shall be Tortall's new rulers. Kalasin has no mages by her side, and few guards that can protect her against us. The throne is ours for the taking-"

"Cyril, that's obsurd! Kalasin is in the favor of hte gods! it won't only be treason to the crown, but treason to the gods as well!"

"My friend, it is not treason to the gods that we are helping set things right."

"The task will be more difficult than you make it out to be-"

"No, it won't be. A ceremony is to be held for the promotion in rank of Merric of Hollyrose, is that not so Merric?"

Merric's blue eyes darted from one man to the other as everyone in the room turned to look at him. "Aye, a ceremony will be held, and I will become the girl's head soldier, the one who is to remain at her side until death takes one of us."

Cyril chuckled. Merric could be the perfect pawn in winning the throne, so long as everyone else played their parts exactly as planned.

* * *

**AN:** Sorry about the wait everyone. My computer crashed on me, and school has been a real pain. I have not even one week left, however, so expect updates soon :)


	2. Chapter 1 Battling Death

**Title: **Tapestry of Challenges  
**Chapter: **1 - Battling Death  
**Author:** Kitty

"..." Talk  
'...' Thought  
_italic_ Dream

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters or creatures from Tamora Pierce's books, however, I do own those I have made up for this story. I also own the plot. If you want to use names of my characters or any ideas based from my story, get permission first.

**Summary:** A new time is upon the kingdom of Tortall; a young woman who has gone against the rules of being a noble woman is in power with no suitor by her side. The age of darkness has begun to fade, but conspiracies are being born. Can Kalasin trust anyone but herself, or is everyone deceiving her?

* * *

Roald of Conté narrowed deep blue eyes at a figure in the distance. It was rough sees, a time for traveling ships to be cautious, but the figure which he assumed to be a ship was closing the large space between the two vessels quite quickly.

Shinkokami of the Yamani Islands walked up next to her newly betrothed husband. Shinko smiled up at the man beside her, her dark eyes twinkling. Though their marriage had been arranged, they found deep feelings for one another in the time spent together. The marriage posed as a treaty between the Islands and Tortall, but since the devastating times that crashed upon all kingdoms, a treaty was no longer needed.

Shinko's family and friends were destroyed as raiders attacked the islands, and no help could come to them. Due to this, it was Shinko's duty to restore the Yamani islands to they way things were before the attacks, and as her husband, Roald had insisted on coming with her, helping out in any way he could.

Seeing the troubled look upon her love's face, she looked out to sea, her eyes sight resting on the nearing ship. "Roald, what's wrong?" she asked, confused by his emotions.

Roald glanced down at Shinko, his arm slipping around her waist before he went back to studying the ship. "Do you see that ship out there?"

Shinko nodded.

"The build of it is different from Tortall's ships, and it's going fast for being on rough sees. The captain should be more cautious in this type of weather."

"It's no Yamani boat either, Roald. It's too large, and the wood is not the kind we use," the female muttered, her voice soft. About to explain more differences between her people's boats, and the vessel they saw, a gasp slipped from her lips. A blush crawled along her cheeks as she whipped out her fan to hide her face. It was disgraceful to show emotions, or so the Yamanis believed.

Roald looked down at the petite woman, holding her close. "What is it, Shinko?"

"Roald, look at their flag! It bares the insignia pirate raiders use!"

Roald pushed his black hair away from his face and focused on the flag. Sure enough, Shinko was right. "Stay here," he told her as he slipped his arm from around her. Turning on his heel, he took off at a run, calling for the captain.

Shinkokami did as she was told, though she wished she could have gone with him. Her hands were growing sweaty from being nervous, and small beads of perspiration clung to her body though the sea gave off a wonderful breeze. Swiftly, the ship approached their own, dirty looking men grinning and hollering at those on deck. The sun bounced off of metal weapons that the men grasped or had hanging at their side. Slowly, the female backed away from the side of the ship, her eyes wide with terror.

* * *

A callused hand raked through wavy auburn locks that crowned a lightly freckled, tan face. Brilliant blue eyes set under heavy brows gazed tiredly ahead as the party trudged onward in the day's heat. Merric of Hollyrose, newly appointed the Queen's Guard, took a swig from his flask as his sight rested upon Kalasin of Conté, the throne of Tortall's only heir and ruler left alive.

The Conté family had been destroyed in the second Immortal's War save for Kalasin and Roald. Roald chose to give up his title as the new king of Tortall and help his wife, Shinkokami, preserve what was left of the Yamani Islands. Roald's choice left Tortall in Kalasin's stead. Unfortunately, pirates ambushed them. Nothing was left from the battle save for some broken wood planks.

To honor her family's deaths, Kalasin wore an ebon ensemble every day, and she would continue to do so until the time of mourning was over. Today the female wore a silk charcoal-colored gown that clung to her every curve, including the small lump that was her belly. She wore her hair up in a horse's tail, her headdress pinned into her locks.

She was parading through the market strip of Corus to show not only herself to the public, but her new bodyguard. She had to make sure things continued to be rebuilt so her people would not grow more discouraged than they already were. Along the way to Corus, Kalasin encountered families in the process of repairing their homes, or tending to the few animals they had left. Multiple times, to her guards' disapproval, she stopped to help out, surprising those who saw her doing physical labor. It was unladylike, and though her work was appreciated, or so she hoped, she was always shooed off after a few moments.

Now that they were in Corus, she stopped to converse with the merchants as well as those who were there to make purchases. Merric let out a groan as she stopped yet again to buy some sweets for a child who stood staring into the window, admiring the variety of goods. The child was obviously too poor to buy some for himself.

'She's making herself an easy target,' he thought as he followed behind her. The first assassination attempt was to occur today. His azure eyes scanned the area before him; he had to be prepared to fake being unable to reach Kalasin in order to protect her. It wasn't that he wanted her dead, in fact, he liked her quite a bit. He was just doing what he had to in order to keep his lands and family safe from Cyril, a power-hungry, well-to-do man.

There, weaving throughout the crowd were the men who would carry out the murder. Merric glanced at Kalasin. Had she noticed them yet? No, she was too busy visiting with yet another vendor. Sighing, he began to back away from her to prepare for the attack. Another look at Kalasin pained him. If he allowed the assassination to occur, he would be helping the murder of not one, but two beings. Could he do that? He had become a knight to defend the helpless, not murder those who were innocent. But did he really have a choice now that Cyril was his enemy?

* * *

Shinko screamed when someone grabbed her. Turning to face her captor, she whipped out her fan and used its razor sharp edges to slit the enemy's throat. Small droplets of blood formed along the wound's opening. The man who had grabbed her let go, roaring with anger. As soon as he lost his grip on her, Shinko took off, raising the skirts of her kimono so her strides would be longer.

Roald stopped in the doorway of the captain's cabin. "Traitor!" he screamed as the captain ran one of the crewmembers through.

The captain settled his gaze on Roald, and ran after him. "Tortall is finished, as are you," he muttered, his sword raised.

Roald blocked the attack with his own sword, the clash of metal creating the tiniest of sparks. Remembering the years he spent training to be a knight, Roald took a step back and raised his leg. His foot made contact with the man's groin, causing him to double over and drop his weapon. Using another maneuver taught by the Shang Warriors, Roald was able to knock the man unconscious.

Hearing Shinko's scream, Roald's heart pounded. Swiftly, he made his way back onto the deck, slicing at those men who were foolish enough to get in his way. Blood now decorated his clothing. The specks that covered his skin were nearly dry, some pieces flaking off as he moved.

Shinko picked up her pace when she saw Roald emerge onto the deck. As she approached her husband, one of her slippers fell from her foot, causing the female to fall ungracefully to the ground.

Roald held out his hand as a pirate kneeled over Shinko. A beam of blue light flew from his palm and into the man's chest. The impact threw him off of the female as Roald went to his wife's side. "We have to get off of this ship!"

"There is no where to run to. Roald, they're too strong!"

Pulling the woman up, Roald frowned. Gripping her hand firmly, he pulled her up onto her feet and began to run with her to the other side of the ship. An eruption of flames appeared where they had been standing. Blazebalm, a jelly-like substance that turns to flame when a magical word is spoken, had been used to start the ship and its passengers on fire. The air soon reeked of burnt flesh, and shouts and screams reached the man and woman's ears.

"R-Roald, what's going to happen to us?"

Roald opened his mouth to tell her they would be fine when more explosions caused him to pull Shinkokami close to him. He felt himself flying through the air before he was surrounded by a cold darkness.

* * *

An arrow sped by, grazing Kalasin's cheek. Her eyes widened as she raised her fingers to cover the fine slit on her face. More arrows flew into the air, coming down upon the soldiers who tried to surround the female as well as merchants and purchasers alike. Everyone ran screaming, shoving one another. Fights broke out amongst shouting matches.

Kalasin felt herself being pulled aside as a dagger lodged itself into the wooden bars holding up a merchant's stall. Looking at her savior, she ended up face to face with Merric.

Merric pulled her along with him, mounting up onto her horse and raising her up into the saddle in front of him. Kicking the animal's haunches, they rode off down the road, the mare stepping on anyone that was in her way. Looking over his shoulder, he saw they lost the murderers in the crowd, and thus the first assassination attempt was spoiled.

* * *

"He did what!" Cyril cried out in fury. He shoved the dishes off of the table they sat on. Glass flew in every direction, and metal created a loud clang as it made contact with the floor. "That traitor will pay! Send men out to the nearest village in Hollyrose. Make sure they burn it to the ground, and leave none alive. I will not have him turning his back on me!" 


	3. Chapter 2 You're Mine

**Title:** Tapestry of Challenges  
**Chapter: **2 - You're Mine  
**Author:** Kitty

"..." Talk  
'...' Thought  
_italic_ Dream

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters or creatures from Tamora Pierce's books; however, I do own those I have made up for this story. I also own the plot. If you want to use names of my characters or any ideas based from my story, get permission first.

**Summary:** A new time is upon the kingdom of Tortall; a young woman who has gone against the rules of being a noble woman is in power with no suitor by her side. The age of darkness has begun to fade, but conspiracies are being born. Can Kalasin trust anyone but herself, or is everyone deceiving her?

* * *

Cyril gazed at his men who wore worried looks. They knew he was cross when upset, and Merric deceiving him had pushed him over the edge. His normally cold eyes now showed only malice and hatred. Calmly, the man took out a map of Tortall, unrolling it in front of those around the table.

"Perhaps this will be to our advantage," he said through gritted teeth. Using his index finger, he traced the quickest, easiest path from Corus to fief Hollyrose.

"Merric will be in a hurry to reach his people. He will take this path thinking he will make good time, but he'll be wrong. Kalasin, upon hearing the news, will insist she go with him, and one way or another, the bitch will have her way. She says she wants to help, but she'll stand around to watch the labor be done, and in the end she will claim everyone's work was her own."

After a moment of silence to calm his nerves, Cyril circled fief Hollyrose with his finger. "This is where she dies. We can attempt an attack before they leave Corus, or wait til night forces them to make camp to slit the wench's throat as she sleeps. If neither is done, I want all of our forces to attack them in Hollyrose."

A murmur of agreement spread throughout the room as Cyril thought to himself, _Kalasin, your head will be on display by the month's end. I will h have your throne, and the power of Tortall in my palm.

* * *

_

Merric gazed up at the woman who sat before him. Kalasin wore a light blue cotton gown, plain save for the silver embroidered hems. She wore few jewels: only eardrops and a necklace. The way she held herself gave no doubt that she was royalty, no matter how simple of clothing she adorned. _She could be dressed in rags and still look like a goddess,_ Merric thought to himself as he let his eyes wander over her figure.

Kalasin nibbled her lower lip. When Merric mentioned what had occurred within his fief, the girl's attention was caught immediately. With all the repairs being done throughout the kingdom, the royal purse was stretched thin. _But these people need the money. They'll need it to buy wood for repairing buildings, and for food._

Catching a glint of spark in her eyes, Merric rose from his kneeled position in front of the female. "Absolutely not. You aren't coming along. This is no adventure, Majesty," he muttered. "I am simply doing my duty to my fief, and then coming back to Corus to be at your side as your personal guard once more."

Kalasin flapped her hand at him, dismissing his words as if that was never her intention when in reality it was. "Oh Merric, for the gods' sakes! My duty is here, and I wouldn't want to get in your way, though it would be nice to venture further into the kingdom, let people know I exist and care for them.

No matter, I will stay here while you attend to your home. I will arrange a purse to go along with you to pay for goods your fief may need, and I also wish to have a squad of men sent with you. They may help with repairs as well as keep you company on the long road."

Merric bowed deeply before her, his eyes never leaving hers. "You are gracious, my Queen-"

"Please Merric, no formalities between us when there is no one else here. Besides, you know how much I dislike that title. I don't feel I've earned it."

"My Quee-Kalasin," he corrected himself when she shot him a glare, "You've done everything, and more, for Tortall. I see now how you haven't earned the right as ruler."

Kalasin smiled gratefully at him. Merric had a charm about him, and a way with words that always made her feel at ease. "Sir Merric, you waste your time bowing before me and saying your goodbyes."

Merric sighed, and bowed once more. "Majesty, I'm leaving Sergeants Krause and Vacher with you in my stead." With a nod from Kalasin, the man quickly left.

Standing up, Kalasin shook out her skirt as she made her way to the door, surprising the servant who stood just outside of the room, awaiting orders. "I wish to have a hot bath in my chambers, but before that, go have the treasurer prepare a purse for Sir Merric. Ten soldiers are accompanying him, so I want there to be enough coin for repairs at fief Hollyrose as well as meals for each man."

* * *

Roald felt his limp body hit a hard surface. Opening his eyes halfway, he saw a blurred image of movement before shutting his eyes again. "Shinko," he croaked.

Murmurs arose around him, causing him to struggle into a sitting position. A gentle hand pressed against his chest, pushing him back down.

"She here too," said a deep, kind voice in broken Tortallan. "Rest now, talk later."

Willing himself to open his eyes, he did so and came face to face with a tan-skinned man. He had dark almond shaped eyes, and his ebon hair was pulled back into a slick horse's tail. "Where is she-who are you?"

"You rest," he said, his voice less kind this time.

"No, we talk now."

"Not safe talk here. Talk at home. You safe at home."

Sighing in defeat, Roald settled himself more comfortably within the small boat, taking a blanket that was handed to him. Wrapping himself in its warmth, he let his mind drift, his lids slowly shutting.

* * *

As Kalasin settled down in the basin of hot water, her mind raced. She wanted to leave the confinements of the castle. She wanted to explore the land, pay visits to her people, but no one would let her. Everyone treated her like some delicate piece of crystal that would break if let outside.

_Do they not know who I am?_ she thought aggravated, though she knew they did. Everyone was just afraid that if the last heir to the crown were hurt or unable to rule, the kingdom would fall to pieces.

Stepping out of the tub, Kalasin donned a cotton robe, her black hair dripping water onto the floor. As a maid rushed in to tend to the female, Kalasin took a step back. "I wish to speak to Sergeants Krause and Vacher. Now, please."

When the maid returned with the sleepy looking sergeants, Kalasin sent the girl off to fetch some tea. Gazing at the two officers, she realized that one of them was a female. Smiling apologetically, Kalasin indicated two seats set in front of her own. "Have a seat. I'm sorry to have roused you so late, but I have plans for tomorrow. Sir Merric has left, no doubt, and I wish for us to leave tomorrow at dawn."

She paused when the two guests exchanged looks, the male officer opening his mouth to protest. Holding up a hand, Kalasin continued. "I want to see the rest of my kingdom. If I can help out anywhere, I will. We can catch up to Sir Merric, so there is no need for a large number of guards to tag along. If you two wish not to accompany me, I am fairly certain I can find two others to take your place."

The girl watched curiously as the male sergeant bristled, his face turning a shade of red, his fists clenched. "We are the best there is out of this lot!" he cried out at Kalasin. "Those fools don't know a sword from a stick-thinking you would be safe with them! Please!"

"Vacher, hush," replied the woman, nudging him in his side with her elbow. Bowing her head to Kalasin, she muttered, "Your Majesty, please forgive him. He forgets of whom he speaks to, and lets his temper get the best of him."

To both officers' surprise, Kalasin began to giggle, her azure eyes twinkling. When they looked at her skeptically, the girl sighed. "I prefer to have people be frank with me, and since you were honest with what you said, Sergeants, I will be honest with you. I am no prized jewel, as fragile as a newborn kitten. I can defend myself by magic or sword. Whether you accompany me or not, I will find a way to leave this prison, but by consulting you first, I am giving you the chance to do what you were assigned to do, and take Sir Merric's place at my side." Standing up, she continued, "If you choose to come with me, meet me at the stables at dawn, otherwise I will see you another time."

Knowing they were dismissed, the sergeants rose, bowed deeply, and then left.

At dawn, Kalasin greeted Vacher and Krause with a smile and a warm biscuit. Clucking to her mount, the female led the way down a stony road. After a few hours of silence, Kalasin began to hum a song she learned amongst the soldiers, and was pleased when Vacher joined in the song. His voice was a beautiful contrast against Krause's alto.

A few songs later and a rest for midday, Kalasin gazed up at the darkening sky. "We should find a place to set camp. We can catch up to Merric tomorrow."

Both guards nodded, though Vacher cleared his throat, an uneasy look on his face.

"Yes?" Kalasin asked, her patience beginning to wear thin due to her eagerness to get some sleep.

"Perhaps we should stay at an inn rather than sleep under the sky tonight."

"Don't be ridiculous. We'll save coin this way-"

"Milady, I insist that we do not stop."

Looking over her shoulder, she watched as the sergeants moved their mounts closer to hers, and then she saw the reason for their sudden strange behavior. A shady group of men followed them, the remaining light in the sky hitting metal that hung at their waist. Smiling coldly, Kalasin sighed. "Very well-"

"Vacher!" screamed the female sergeant as a dagger flew through the air and entered the man's shoulder. His horse, upset by the sudden tightening on the reins, reared and dropped its rider onto the ground.

Kalasin pulled out the sword she kept with her at all times, and turned her mount around to face the group of advancing men.

"No milady, get out of here and leave them to us," growled Vacher as he pulled the dagger out of his shoulder, sending it flying at the closest man. With a grunt, that man fell to the ground, his comrades paying no attention to him as they pulled out their weapons hidden within their clothes.

Krause glared at Kalasin as she opened her mouth to protest. "Get out of here!"

Clenching her fists, Kalasin nodded, re-sheathing her sword. "Find me down the road when you're done here." Kicking her horse's haunches, the girl hurried down the dark road. _Maybe if I can reach Merric, they can receive help._ Turning around for a last look, her eyes widened slightly at the sight of a sword pushing through Krause's side, her blood-curdling scream being cut off by a war hammer smashing her skull.

Swaying in the saddle, Kalasin forced herself to look away and keep heading down the road. _Why does everyone around me have to die?_ Banishing the tears from her eyes, the girl sat straighter in her seat, urging her mount to go faster.

The thundering of hooves caused her to look back, worry swamping her. The man who had given the finishing blow to Sergeant Krause was leaning forward on the officer's horse, slapping its rear with the flat of his sword to speed its pace up.

The space between Kalasin and the enemy was quickly fading. Panic overcame worry, a trembling hand retrieving the sword at her side. As the man bore down on her with his sword, the girl blocked with her own, her complexion paling. Her arm ached from the repetitive force being thrashed against her.

Not seeing the foot that came at her as she blocked yet another strike, Kalasin was sent from her saddle to the ground. Instead of coming at her with his sword, the man held up his war hammer, his arm bringing it down towards her unprotected body. Screaming, the girl held out her hands as if to throw up a shield, her eyes clenched shut.

The man stopped mid-attack, his eyes widening as his skin began to rip open. It was as if some invisible force blew up inside him. Blood flew out of the man, his body being torn into pieces. It happened so fast, he had no time to cry out for help, let alone cry out in pain.

Kalasin felt wetness hit her, and cautiously opened her eyes, finding herself covered in blood. Her stomach revolted against the feel, stench, and image of blood and chunks of skin that littered the ground before she lost consciousness.

"_Kalasin, awake my little warrior." Mithros, the god of War and Law, smiled as the female slowly opened her eyes, her body trembling. Using his thumb, he wiped away the blood that speckled her cheek. His touch was warm and kind._

"_Y-you!" she stammered, clumsily inching away from him until her back hit a tree. Looking around, she realized she was still on the street where she had killed that man. Not only was the location the same, it was near dawn, and there were no traces of her guards. Her lip quivered as she wrapped her arms around her legs that were drawn up to her chest. "What do you want with me?" Kalasin asked, her voice a little more than a whisper._

_Settling beside her, Mithros gazed at the rising sun. "I am checking up on you. It has been too long since I last looked in on you and our child." He smiled proudly, "I should have known you could take care of yourself though."_

_Dumbfounded, Kalasin stared at him, repeating what he had said. "O-our child? This is not _our_ child; this is Lerant's as well as mine. How dare you think you can claim the being inside of me?"_

_Mithros looked into Kalasin's dangerously glittering eyes. "How dare I? I dare because I speak the truth. That is _my_ child, not that pathetic human's. That is not the only thing that is mine, Kalasin. You are also mine."_

* * *

**AN:** I apologize for the long wait. I have not only had a busy personal life (health, graduation, college, gerbil having her babies), but also I've had the worst writer's block.

To make it up to everyone for the wait, I tried to make this chapter fairly long. Hope I did a good job!

I will be updating more frequently once I get past this chapter due to the fact that I have ideas for the middle portion of the story, but I'm struggling on getting there.


	4. Chapter 3 Safety

**Title:** Tapestry of Challenges  
**Chapter:** 3 – Safety  
**Author:** Kitty

"..." Talk  
'...' Thought  
_italic_ Dream

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters or creatures from Tamora Pierce's books; however, I do own those I have made up for this story. I also own the plot. If you want to use names of my characters or any ideas based from my story, get permission first.

**Summary:** A new time is upon the kingdom of Tortall; a young woman who has gone against the rules of being a noble woman is in power with no suitor by her side. The age of darkness has begun to fade, but conspiracies are being born. Can Kalasin trust anyone but herself, or is everyone deceiving her?

* * *

"_No. NO!" Kalasin cried out._

"_Kalasin, listen to me! Did you really think a puny human like that pathetic excuse for a man could love you? He was the easiest to posses at times-"_

"_You used him," she whispered dangerously, her words cutting Mithros off, "Lerant was just a tool to you. A tool you used to get to me."_

_Grabbing her chin, Mithros forced her to look at him. "Kalasin, stop being so dramatic. All humans are tools to the gods. It's how the realms function. You may be a bit of a tool, but you are no normal human. You are my little goddess, my little warrior, and the mother of our child." He leaned in until his face was a mere inch away from hers. "Is it so hard to let me love you? I want us to be together, and we will, Kalasin. I own you, and I will have you by my side."_

_All the girl could do was stare at him and shiver as his warm breath hit her skin. "But," she whispered, "I loved him."_

"_You are too innocent to know what it is to love someone," Mithros said as he leaned it, letting his lips cover hers. His hand slid to cover her belly, his power leaking inside of her._

_Kalasin's eyes fluttered shut, her lips tingling at the sensation of his own pressing against hers. Warmth grew deep inside her, spreading throughout her body until her cheeks flushed. Soon the pleasure turned to pain, starting in her lump of a stomach. She pulled away from the god, gritting her teeth._

As the girl opened her eyes, she found herself standing before a shabby looking inn. Mounted atop a horse standing beside her was Merric, his blue eyes blazing furiously at her.

"What do you think you are doing?" he cried out, and was about to scold her more, but he stopped himself when her eyes filled with tears. Merric watched as she fell to her knees, her gown covered in dirt and dark stains. Tears rolled down her cheeks as her cries shook her body. Looking around, he saw no sign of the sergeants he assigned to the girl. "Where are they?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

"Th-they got them," she managed to say after a few more minutes of weeping.

"Well, it seems you've gotten your wish." Leaning down, he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her to her feet before readjusting his grip on her and pulling her into the saddle. _She's too light_, he thought to himself, _even if she's pregnant, it shouldn't be that easy to lift her up._

Letting her relax against him, he shook the horse's reins and rode off. The guards that were assigned to him were still at the inn; sleeping off the large amount of alcohol they consumed the previous night. Refusing to let his arrival be delayed, he had left them there. Glancing at Kalasin, who was now slumbering, he thought bitterly to himself, _I should have left her there as well. She'll only be a burden to me._

Looking down at the sleeping female, a pain filled his chest. Even if she would be a burden to him, he would bring her along and protect her. He had promised his friend, and now deceased king, that he would do so no matter what. When he first encountered Cyril, and was threatened by that man, the promise he made had fled his memory until now.

"Don't worry, Kalasin. I vow I'll keep you safe, even if it does cost me my fief and my people's loyalty. I never go back on my word."

* * *

Wrapped in a tattered blanket, Roald followed his rescuers closely, aware that one carried a bundle in their arms that was his wife. Once the boat was tied up, he was led through a series of dirt roads; streets that ran off from a main road, their surroundings dark and unsettling. 

After what felt like hours to Roald, the small group reached a clearing; fields of wheat and barley lining one after the other while shack-like homes cluttered together, the fields surrounding them on either side of a muddy road.

Roald was led to one of the last houses in the grouping, and one of the worse looking ones. The wood that the house was made of was decaying, a window on the side of the structure was broken, and remains of what use to be home-made pots lay scattered across a small rise of a porch.

The man who had spoken to Roald stepped onto the rickety porch, the boards creaking under his weight. With ease, the man slid the paper-like door open to reveal small rooms connected by a hallway. A wave of heat surged towards them as first all the men, and then Roald took off their shoes, leaving them at the door.

As he bent down to pull off his salt-crusted boot, Roald took note of the straw mats that covered the floor. As soon as he had his last boot off his foot, it was grabbed by one of the men who also held his other boot. In the man rushed, while another pulled Roald inside abruptly, and the door was shut.

With a few quick movements from the remaining men, Roald found himself stripped of his clothing, goose pimples forming on the surface of his skin. Before he could protest, as well as complain, a woman came into the room holding onto a pile of cloth.

At first glance, Roald noticed her black hair that was pulled back, a few strands of gray being revealed. Her skin was an olive tone, her eyes the shape of almonds. She appeared to be blind, but then he saw that unlike most Yamanis, her eyes were so pale a blue as to appear white and clouded.

She smiled up at Roald with thin lips. Her eyes seemed to pierce through him as she held out the cloth bundle in her arms. As he continued to stare at her, beads of perspiration forming on his body, he noticed that it was not gray hair that intertwined itself within the mass of black, but silver locks that seemed to gleam as if filled with power. Glancing back into her eyes, he gasped, feeling as if a blow was laid into his gut. Her eerie eyes twinkled amusingly, and after dropping the cloth in his hands, she walked away. Only before disappearing into a room did she stop, glancing back at Roald, and muttered, "He is true to the heart father. He can be trusted."

With a grunt, Roald let the others help him out as he numbly dressed in a typical Yamani outfit made for laboring in. It smelled of sandalwood and soil, dark streaks showing it was worn out in the fields.

The man who the girl had talked to, the same man who had given him orders when they were on the boat, turned towards Roald. Kindness radiated off of him like heat rolling off of the sun. Beckoning to him, the man led Roald and the others into a dimly lit room where a table sat low to the ground, small cups sitting atop it.

Roald watched the others sit cross-legged around the table and copied them. The position was uncomfortable to him, but he sat silent, unsure of himself. At last he opened his mouth to speak, his words slow and quiet. "Where is Shinkokami? Where is my wife?"

After a moment of silence, one man draining the contents of his cup, Roald was answered. "She has yet to wake," a man who had remained silent until now spoke. "King Roald, isn't it?"

Startled, Roald looked at the man, noting his hair was a dark brown rather than black. His features were sharp, and his eyes a dull brown. "Aye," he murmured. "Why is it that you have dressed me like your kind? What happened to my belongings?"

"They were burned," the young man said dully, continuing when he noticed the shocked expression on Roald's face. "You are fortunate that your soul is pure. My sister Sachi trusts you. She has seen your soul, your purity, and for that reason only are you still alive to hear what has happened to the Islands."

"She has the Gift?"

"I suppose that is what you would call it, but here we believe a spirit of power has been reborn into her. She can see when one lies, whom among us are cruel hearted or kind, whom we can trust." He paused a moment, seeing the question in Roald's eyes before he had the time to ask it. With a smile, he gave his answer, "I am Taro. My father was the one who spotted you within the waves."

Roald nodded, glancing at the elder man who sat to his left.

"As I was saying, our Islands are no longer what they were. When the whole world was thrown into Chaos' hands, we suffered greatly. Many villages have burned to the ground, few fields left that are prosperous, and the throne was overtaken, the whole royal family murdered, save for Queen Shinkokami.

We are farmers as well as fishers. It is how we survive in the changing world around us, but pirates and raiders have overtaken the seas. The pirates are the ones who have taken control of our homeland, doing as they please; killing innocents, raping our wives, sisters, mothers, it does not matter so long as it is a female. They take our belongings, burn our houses, and slaughter our animals…" Taro let his voice drift as his cheeks burned with angler, his fists clenching and unclenching.

"My point is this, King Roald," he said once his emotions were under his control again, "we need your help. With the Tortallan army, we will be sure to drive-"

"They think I am dead. My sister is in power there, and they have not the men to spare. As you know, Tortall is a vast kingdom, and each man that can be spared has been sent to help with repairs."

"Taro, the rebellion," muttered a man to Roald's right.

"What rebellion?" asked Roald curiously.

"We are organizing a rebellion against these pirate scum, Scanran filth," replied Taro.

"Scanrans?" Roald frowned, his fingers smoothing down his beard, "What if Shinko were to be put back into power? Would that unite enough Yamanis to be able to fight back amongst the Scanrans?"

"Perhaps. We too have heard of the death of Queen Shinkokami. Since her ship north was found in ruins, and corpses polluted the water, all assumed she was lost forever to the treacherous sea."

"The sight and knowledge that Shinko is alive would bring back lost hope to the people."

"Yes, but it will be hard to hide her, and you, from the brutes that roam our streets freely now. They often pay visits, demanding tax money, crops, anything we have. They will starve us to death by taking our resources from us, denying us coin and food."

"How many are involved in this rebellion of yours?"

"Too few to count."

Roald swore under his breath, his lively azure eyes glaring at his lap as he thought of the situation he was now in. He had to protect Shinko, and reunite her with her people at all costs. The Yamani islands would not perish under Scanran rule, or any rule so long as he had breath in his body.

* * *

Kalasin's head lolled back, a strangled cry escaping her chapped lips. Her eyes shot open, and she cried aloud again, startling the horse. 

Merric swore as he struggled to gain control, barely noticing that Kalasin had slipped from the saddle and now lay on the dirt ground holding her belly, doing anything to keep from crying. When the horse was calm, he looked over his shoulders his hard expression softening as he saw her paling. Hurrying over to her, he hopped down and bent besides her, lifting her head up off the dirt. "What's wrong? You aren't having your baby are you?" he asked, his eyes showing panic and worry. He had no experience with babies, let alone helping in the birthing of one.

"S-something's wrong," she spat out, pain audible in her voice. Closing her eyes, she sent her power through her body to help ease her aches, and what she found made her breath catch in her throat. In her magical self, she could see the developing child radiating with power. Each kick was like a knife being thrust into her midsection. She had to stop it somehow, but her power was no match to what she saw inside her. _Mithros was right, _she thought bitterly, _that bastard! He made me think I was loved, made me think I was wanted. I did what he wanted all along, giving myself to him, though I thought I was giving myself to the man I loved._ After another failed attempt at using her power as a shield, a tiny voice inside her said to her _maybe you did give yourself to the man you love. Maybe you knew it was not Lerant, but Mithros._ "Damn the gods!" she shouted angrily, fisting her hands at her sides. "Help me up, Merric. I will not be brought down by a babe, let alone the one inside of me!"

Merric did as she said, saying nothing, though he nervously looked her over. He hadn't seen her this angry before, and it frightened him. He felt the fury that was her current emotion encircling itself around her. Shuddering at the spine-chilling air about her, and the suggestion of her being a spirit of some sort rather than human that his mind had come up with, Merric gulped audibly, helping the woman back into the saddle.

_I will beat you in your game, Mithros,_ she thought savagely, _I will not become a pawn of yours that you can do as you wish with. I will not play your game, nor allow _my_ child to be apart of it. You may be a god, but I will not break under your pressure. I will rise above you, and at that time you will wish you hadn't bothered with me.

* * *

_

**AN:** Ah, the plot unfolds itself. Also, so everyone knows, Kalasin is _not_ pregnant by her dad. I am sorry I made it sound that way. Mithros is not her dad, but a god "in love", or so he claims to be.

Lastly, my gerbils got into a fight; they fight to the death when they get into fights. I intervened and was attacked. I now have a very sore finger, and it makes it difficult to type, write, or do anything for that matter as it is on my dominant hand. The reason I am sharing this info is so you all are prepared for a little wait as my finger heals (gerbil had bit all the way through the tough skin next to the nail).


End file.
